Silent Snow Fall
by Capponi
Summary: A glance at Hannibal's life hours after escaping his home following his sisters demise...
1. Snow Child

The silent snow fell thick and fast, swirling down from the grey sky to snag on the glittering branches of the evergreens and create thick blankets and drifts on the frozen ground. Amos Parchain looked up from his watch on his goat herd and rubbed his stinging hands. "These winters'll be the death of me" he muttered darkly in his native tongue. The war had taken its toll on the once dramatic scenery of Lithuania. The forests had been savaged with stray shells and fires from the hundreds of Nazi deserters that had tracked through its beauty. The night was fast drawing in, curling in dark licks from the North to streak the forests with scars of gloom and slicks of shadow. Amos whistled to Shep, his boarish sheepdog to round up the herd then set off down the craggy hill to a tiny slate walled cottage, thick wood scented smoke billowing from the tiny chimney. Jumping a gorge on the edge of the forests leading to Vilnius, Amos caught sight of a dark shape, semi cloaked in snow. Twisting in mid-air, the Shepard landed hard several feet away from the lump, the snow lying on a thick branch falling to the frozen ground. As the Shepard sized up the possibly human thing, it proved itself to be very human indeed by rolling onto all fours and very slowly raising to its feet. The Shepard's face paled and his bright, old eyes took in the deathly pale child before him. It was shaking with cold, its dark hair frozen into vulpine spikes along its cheekbones. Its eyes were wild and demonically dark, standing out shockingly from its blue/white complexion. Dark purple lips quivering, maybe from cold and clear exhaustion or maybe trying to form words. The Shepard would never know for the sudden rise had done the young boy no good. His dark eyes rolled and he fell gracefully back to his icy alcove.  
  
Maria Parchain looked worriedly out at the blackened landscape out the tiny wood framed window. Her husband was due home over an hour ago. His soup was getting that skin he hated-he always said it was like eating traction oil. The door slammed open and the man himself walked in. "AMOS! I was getting worried! You said after last."she broke off mid-nag upon noticing the bundle of material in his arms. Silently, the old Shepard gently placed the bundle on a worn sofa. Maria peered at the still body of a young boy, white with cold and shivering. Dark blood spattered his shoulder which seemed to lie at an unnatural angle. His feet, which were bare, had several thick swellings and cuts that looked septic. "What's the poor ting been through?" Maria whispered, kneeling at his side and smoothing his hair. "Will he be okay?" her husband asked, shaking snow from his hair and looking anxiously towards the slight child. " Well a hot bath and a warm bed ain't gonna do him no harm" Gingerly, she picked up the dark haired boy and carried him upstairs. 


	2. Introductions

Silent Snow Fall  
  
Chapter Two-Introductions  
  
Maria and Amos Parchain sat in the cosy living room, the blazing log fire casting jumping figures of shadow and light to dance on the walls. It had been over a week since they had taken in the snow child, as they had come to call him. Maria was worried that they may need to seek professional help, but the nearest hospital was miles away. "He wasn't much of a lad when we got him, Amos" she was telling her husband. Amos scoffed quietly "He looks a wiry little runt though, tougher than you think you'll find." They were silent for a few minutes. "I'll go and check on him" Maria said finally. Amos rolled his eyes, smiling slightly. That woman was the biggest fuss, the boy would pull through fine but it wouldn't stop her acting Mother hen. She had wanted children so long as well. She was devastated when they found they couldn't. Shaking his head, Amos eased down and shut his eyes, awaiting his wife's return.  
  
Stepping lightly up the smoothly worn wood stairs, Maria stopped and listened. Had she heard movement in the room? Quickly ascending the final few steps, she pushed the heavy door open. The first thing she noticed was the rumpled, but decidedly empty bed. Scanning the room she found the boy, standing by the window watching the night snow swirl into the blackness.  
  
Turning slowly, he looked directly into her eyes, his own giving off no emotion. She stepped closer and was alarmed to see a slick of polished metal appear in his hand. "Well really!" Maria was insulted. She may be a terrible fuss but she had a strong sense of courtesy. "It's nice to know you appreciate my husband risking his own neck to save you." The young boy considered, she noticed the strange colour of his eyes and thought she noticed a deformity in his left hand but was too polite to stare.  
  
Finally the child spoke. "I am sorry Madame. I was not sure of your grounds of keeping me. You have to be careful with some of the people in Lithuania these days." His voice was soft and fluid with a pleasant cultured lilt. The old woman nodded eyes returning some more warmth to him. "That's true, child. There's some rumours of whole gangs of those Nazi scum parading through our land as if it was their own soil. Cowards who haven't the heart to fight when the oppositions equal." She made a disapproving noise. She eyed his slight form up critically. "Anyway, what about you? Feeling okay, dear?" The boy looked to his shoulder, a fresh cloth bandage held it securely in the correct position. "My shoulder is dislocated. It feels better new though. Did you fix this bandage on? "  
"No, it's my husband you've got to thank for that. Used to be in the National Medics Society, Amos did." The child noticed how the woman swelled with pride when talking about her husband. He'd noticed that before as well. He'd never really felt proud of anyone. His father was a coward in the boy's eyes who dodged fighting by bribing the local authorities, his mother was very ill, he hadn't seen her for more than a few hours at a time. It was the old maid who had brought him up and their relationship had never got beyond professional.  
  
Suddenly the memory of Mischa pulling herself up on the rocking horse and walking her first, wobbling steps to him. He had felt proud then. He pushed Mischa to the back of his mind, it was too soon. He felt heat behind his eyes and turned from the woman, facing the white and black kaleidoscope out the window. "Now then!" the woman was behind him and gently turned him despite his resistance. She took in this pale slip of a boy, the weary grief new in his moistening eyes. She looked at him for a split second then Maria Parchain pulled Hannibal Lecter into the first real hug of his young life and let him cry. 


	3. The Child Within

Silent Snow Fall Vol.3 The Child Inside  
  
3 WEEKS LATER  
  
Hannibal Lecter rolled over in his small bed. The dawn was breaking outside his window, the night's snowfall tasting its first glimpse of light from below. Pushing back the patched blanket, he rose to look out at the sparkling hillside, the whiteness pristine and untouched by human means.  
  
Quietly pulling on a jumper, she slipped past Amos and Maria's door and pulled the heavy front door back. A refreshing blast of stinging air blustered his hair. Tilting his head, he savoured the uniquely enchanting smell of tumbling rivers and frozen pine needles that was a Lithuanian winter dawn.  
  
Crossing the icy track, he ascended the sloping hill beyond before reaching the bubbling streams and the forest edge. The water was perfectly clear, travelling too fast to pick up leaves or mud, white bubbles jumping the rocks like tiny horses.  
  
Living at the grand estate with his parents had never deprived him of anything material, but his parent's strict orders to the maids had denied him the simple pleasures of outside freedom. He understood their concern, what with the constant threat of foreign soldiers, but he sourly missed the natural wilderness he could only look at. If only he could have escaped with Mischa. He could imagine her ecstatic face at this freezing world she never had the chance to experience. Then he stopped wishing. Wishing couldn't help now, to earn his right to revenge he had to lock away everything-freeze his emotion, trap his fondest memories for they had the power to break him.  
  
Carefully constructing a tiny cage in the back of a basement room in his Memory Palace, Hannibal Lecter locked away all his pain, and he could think clearly again.  
  
As the young Hannibal Lecter was laying the foundations for his later, infamous life, Amos Parchain was trying to calm his frantic wife. "Stop worrying! The boy's probably gone for a morning walk."  
  
"He doesn't look the outdoors type-pale as milk he is, and he hasn't fully recovered from the last time he was out I the snow and ice"  
  
"He may be pale as milk, but I'll bet you anything he's as strong as a good whiskey-your blowing this out of proportion. If the boy survived acute hypothermia, he's probably going to brave one morning walk dear."  
  
"Still. I think I should go and look for him-he is in our care." Amos sighed heavily-if nagging was a celebrated sport, his wife would be a worldwide superstar. "Don't you be4 going out there-your not in the best of health, either. I'll look for him if it will stop you nagging. I need to get the goats out anyway."  
  
Amos scaled the hill briskly, having followed the same track for 36 years. His small herd followed, eagerly anticipating fresh grazing. Seeing the child sitting by the river, he scaled a little east and set Shep to watch the goats.  
  
Should he go over? Maybe the lad wanted a bit of privacy-why else would he be out at dawn? Ten old shepherd watched the child, wondering what he was up to. Amos had never met any child as young as this to be so intense about everything. He seemed way beyond his years. Had he ever acted like the child he was? He didn't look over 5 or 6 years.  
  
Hannibal Lecter was kneeling by the bubbling stream, his knees were submerged in snow but he didn't seem to notice or care. Two river fishing birds had swooped down right in front of him, a male and a female. They swooped and dived and danced around each other so fast, Hannibal found it almost dizzying to watch. He smiled as they came closer, bright eyes watching the still human-child. He flicked a little water on them and laughed as they ruffled their feathers like a dog would. Enjoying the water, the birds dived into the river, wings flicking water back on the child.  
  
Watching young Hannibal laugh by the river, the shepherd saw a little past his aloof outer and saw a glimpse of the child inside. The child he had thought Hannibal lost years before. Grinning to himself, Amos bunched a ball of snow in his gloved hand and, hiding partially in his goatherd, hurled it at the child.  
  
Feeling the coldness spatter his neck, Hannibal whirled round, eyes scanning the hillside. Only the goats he had smelt coming earlier were on the hillside. No, wait. The scent of cooking smoke and washed wool. Amos! A tiny hunting thrill ran through him as he searched the tossing backs of the goats. A flash of coloured wool in the midst-aha! Eyes flashing, Hannibal packed his own snowball and lobbed it into the mass of grey-white mass, a splatter of snow showing his target. A childish laughter reached Amos's ears and he smiled. Walking from the goats with his hands up in surrender, he approached the boy.  
  
"That was uncalled for!" He told the kneeling child, dropping his hands.  
  
"I believe it was a provoked attack." Hannibal answered smiling slightly.  
  
"Your gonna be at the wrong end of a provoked attack when you get back home! Your dawn stroll got Maria worried sick-been nagging me to the bone." Hannibal grinned playfully. "Again?" he asked. The shepherd tossed his thick shawl over the boy and picked him up. "If you get ill again, you'll have to face the nagging edge of her tongue- and that's one big edge!"  
  
The two made their way back to the smoking cottage, the smell of frying eggs filling the clear sky. Hannibal huddled into the warming shawl so he was virtually completely covered.  
  
Anyone passing would see nothing in the bundle but a few long strands of dark hair tossing in the wind and two maroon eyes. Later in his life, many people who met him would only remember those haunting eyes, masking his emotions perfectly.  
  
At the age of 6 and 4 months, Hannibal is still refining that skill-now his eyes clearly show that, for now, he is happy.  
  
After he leaves the Parchains, he will have to wait nearly 54years to feel the same contentment he does now. And when he does, he will look back to this moment and smile. 


End file.
